 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
Our Lighthouses
The sun has set; but lit the Light,
Which guides the vessels on their way;
Far o'er the ocean's gathering gloom
It sends its bright and cheering ray.
Which guides the vessels on their way;
Far o'er the ocean's gathering gloom
It sends its bright and cheering ray.
Nor this alone; but many a lamp
Along our coast and lakes will burn;
Each, through the night, a guiding star,
Till day's o'erpowering beams return.
Along our coast and lakes will burn;
Each, through the night, a guiding star,
Till day's o'erpowering beams return.
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And faithful men their watches keep
Through the cold, stormy, winter nights;
They slumber not when duty calls,
But rise, and trim their warning lights.
Through the cold, stormy, winter nights;
They slumber not when duty calls,
But rise, and trim their warning lights.
Were one, before the morning dawns,
To dim, or quench its guiding ray,
How many souls might meet their doom!
How many wrecks might strew the bay!
To dim, or quench its guiding ray,
How many souls might meet their doom!
How many wrecks might strew the bay!
Returning from a distant land,
Joyful the Light the sailor hails;
And guided by its friendly beams,
Soon, safe in port, he furls his sails.
Joyful the Light the sailor hails;
And guided by its friendly beams,
Soon, safe in port, he furls his sails.
Poem No. 578; c. 4 February 1879
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |